The Untold Story of Wendy
by Anime-fanatic19
Summary: JM Barrie and Mary were married for fiteen years but surprisingly, James was left with a 16-year old daughter named Wendy after their divorce. Basically an insight on James' family life and how his daughter inspired the character Wendy.
1. Prologue

**Dislaimer: **I_ do not own any of the characters in this fanfic except Wendy whose name I completely owe to JM Barrie for popularizing. _

_**A/N:** Before you start with my story, let's get a ew things straight: I am doing everything in my power to make this fanfic better than most. I didn't find it right to do ANOTHER story about JM Barrie meeting ANOTHER woman after Sylvia's death to cope with the feeling of loss which then leads to ANOTHER love story which rotates around love, problems and redemption. No, I didn't think I'd bring justice to Finding Neverland or to JM Barrie f I wrote another anic that went like that. Let me tell you, it's BADLY CLICHED and nothing makes me laugh so hard, gagging and thinking of how the world has no more imagination than BAD CLICHES (or any cliches at all) paired with BAD GRAMMAR and UNREALISTIC LINES AND SUPERICIAL, PERFECT CHARACTERS. (And yes, if you think the last few lines have been ofensive then do something about it and don't blame it on me, ESPECIALLY IF YOU'RE AN AUTHOR WHO LOVES CLICHES AND PAIRING JM BARRIE WITH ANOTHER WOMAN. I mean, do you think that lowly of JM Barrie? Do you think he's the type of person who would love someone else even to the extent of divorce and then when the person he loves dies he becomes desperate to ease his pain by meeting someone new to move on with? NO, I DON'T THINK SO. _

_These being said, welcome to my fanfic which I am aiming NOT TO BE CLICHED. _

_Oh, and on a final note, if you're a fan of Johnny Depp and one of your reasons or making a fanfic on Finding Neverland is because of his portrayal of JM Barrie then I suggest you do him justice by writing with proper grammar, making sure your characters are not perfect (i.e. Mary-Sue) and that they are realistic and believable, the lines incorporated are proper, needed and adds to the feel of the entire story and most of all, DO NOT DO ANY MORE CLICHES OF JM BARRIE RUNNING OF WITH ANOTHER WOMAN. _

_Thank you. _

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**The Untold Story of Wendy**

_Prologue:_

James Matthew Barrie and Mary Ansell were married for 15 years. James met Mary when Jerome K. Jerome recommended her for a supporting role in one of Barrie's plays. The two became very close friends. Eventually, they married in 1894 after two years of illness on James' part and loving care on Mary's part. Sadly, the relationship was said to be a sexless one, therefore they did not have any children.

That's where history went wrong.

James Matthew Barrie and Mary Ansell produced a child. A daughter. They were married for fifteen years, but slept together a year earlier. When the two were married in 1894, their daughter was a year old. This fact, of course, was concealed to prevent scandals from arising later on. And so, when James and Mary were married in 1894 and their daughter was a year old, family from both sides were careful about talking about the topic, saying that the child was James' niece and that her parents died and left her in the care of James and his wife.

The daughter knew for a fact that this was not true so she cried whenever one of her uncles would say that she was not the child of James and Mary. One night, her father James came up to her room and assured her that they were only doing this for protection and that one day, she would understand. She stopped crying and hugged her father before silently sleeping in his arms.

And so, the child grew to be an avid writer and an adventurous girl who'd rather wear a comfortable pair of pants than a dazzling silk gown. She was sixteen years of age when her parents separated.

One of the most known facts about James Matthew Barrie was that he popularized the name 'Wendy' which was uncommon in both Britain in America. And so, it was only rational for him to name his daughter Wendy.

And that name was what he gave the heroine of Peter Pan.

Wendy.


	2. Inspiring Distraction

_Disclaimer: I do not own any o the people in this fanfic. I only own Wendy whose name was inspored by JM Barrie._

_A/N: Hey there. I just want to start o by saying that **I am terribly sorry for my previous outburst.** I was out of line. Again, I apologize. I had no right to say what I did. I completely agree to everyone being entitled to their own opinion so please forgive me. I can't apologize enough._

_I would also like to sincerely thank H.M. Chandler. Thank you so much for everything. You have converted me. _

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**Chapter One: Inspiring Distraction**

It was opening night.

Large crowds elegantly walked to the theater to witness what the critics have been talking about for a few weeks now: JM Barrie's latest play.

As ladies adorned in the most graceful silk clothing found their seats and fellow gentlemen discussed the following week's cricket match, our beloved playwright stood behind the red exit curtains. Anxious. Observant. Patient. Silently panic-stricken. He stood there, his sturdy mahogany cane in one hand as his other discreetly parted the curtain to quench his aching anxiousness.

He was not confident with this play at all. It was dull and morose, needing a few sharp edges of passion and conflagration here and there. He silently blamed himself for writing under poor conditions such as lack of sleep, constant tea overdoses and last minute trips to his sanctuary: Neverland. It also didn't help that his dog, Porthos, constantly robbed him of the warm blanket every evening leaving him to twitch in the cold. No. No one under those circumstances could write a decent play. No one.

"Father?" A voice had intruded his unspoken critiques.

It was his daughter, all dolled up with her newly tailored midnight blue gown.

"Yes darling?" He asked, masking his uneasiness.

"Mother and I are already seated. She asked to tell you that your play has begun." She let out a sigh and rolled her eyes.

"Please tell your mother that I will be here for the duration of the play." James replied as he continuously struck his cane against the creaking wooden floor.

She remained still for a few moments before once again climbing the steps.

"Of course, father."

Silently, James gazed at this graceful creature before him. God knows that only eight years ago she was still running around the house making a mess. And now, here she was, sixteen years of age and one of the most lovely and adored women in England.

"Wendy," He called, smiling.

She looked back at him, her fair complexion glowed bright as a faint pink came to her cheeks.

"Thank you."

As she walked away, he noticed a pair of loose, black pants peek under her elegant gown. Smiling, he knew that his Wendy had her escape clothes on once again.

The following morning was, compared to the night before, a relief. James had the sole intention of going to the park to hopefully find an inspiring distraction to dull last night's thought of failure.

"Mary, I was wondering if you'd like to join me in the park. It's a beautiful morning." He remarked as he knocked softly on his wife's door.

"Will you be working?" Mary replied almost inaudibly.

"Yes. I suppose so." James flipped through the pages of his leather-bound notebook.

"I shall leave you to your work then." Her voice hung in the air.

The playwright lingered for a moment before descending the stairs. He didn't think Wendy was up yet so he decided not to disturb her.

He gathered his things from their housekeeper, Emma before asking for Porthos. It had been included in his daily routines to take Porthos to the park for some fresh air every morning so he was confused as to why Emma had only handed him the newspaper and an umbrella.

"Where is Porthos on this fine morning?" James asked as he took the newspaper.

"Your daughter, Wendy, took him to the park a few minutes ago. She requested me to tell you that she will be awaiting your company, Mr. Barrie." The housekeeper kept her head low.

"Why, of course. Wendy." James smiled as he walked to the door.

It truly was a beautiful day. The sky was the shade of a comforting blue and there were nearly no clouds in the sky. When James reached the park, he strolled around before he finally found his beloved daughter playing with Porthos.

"Go on. Get it, boy!" She yelled as she threw the ball by one of the majestic oak trees that lined the park.

Porthos immediately ran to retrieve the ball and to bring it back to his master.

"I didn't know you got up so early." James chimed in as he placed his right hand on Wendy's shoulder.

"Good morning, father. I believe we are just about ready for breakfast." Wendy smiled as she patted the dog on the head before unfolding a mat and placing it on the lush, green grass.

"Breakfast?" Her father replied, clearly not grasping the fact that his daughter made him breakfast.

"Yes father, breakfast. I made some before leaving the house and I do hope you'll share it with me." Wendy sat down and smiled. She was wearing her gray Norfolk jacket matched with black knickerbockers and black sturdy boots.

"I see you've again shown ignorance in dressing." James remarked. He knew his daughter wasn't at all lady-like but wearing such clothes might get people talking.

"But father, if I wore my cerulean dress it would merely get ruined with all my running about. These clothes are the most convenient to wear. Besides, I do dress up if the occasion calls for it. For example, last night's play. I wore my newly tailored midnight blue gown. You saw it, didn't you?" Wendy persuaded as she opened the basket to take out some biscuits and sandwiches.

"Yes, as a matter of fact, I did. I also happened to have seen your black trousers peeking underneath them." James smirked.

"You did?" Wendy giggled.

"Might you know why?" James inquired, taking a bite of his sandwich.

"Well, after the play I took the gown off and left." She confessed, eyeing the golden brown biscuit she held in her hand.

"So that's why your mother and I didn't find you afterwards. Where exactly did you go?" James replied.

"Nowhere of grave importance. Just walking around. The city is much better at night, don't you agree father?"

"If you say so, darling."

The conversation continued for some time until Porthos started barking. Wendy stood up to see what was wrong and James followed silently after her.

"What's wrong, boy?" Wendy asked as he scratched the dog behind the ears.

Before Porthos was a small child with wheat-colored hair and off-white trousers.

"I'm terribly sorry. I was commanded by the evil Prince George to retrieve the ball he threw and I didn't realize that this belonged to your dog. I'm sorry if I bothered you." His tone was soft and slow.

"Your crime is forgiven," James suddenly joined in, "What did you say your name was?"

"Michael." The little boy with wheat-colored hair replied.

"Ah, I see. And why exactly were you commanded by the evil Prince George, as you said?" Wendy asked, instantly deciding to join in this imaginative play.

"He says I am to be—"

"I'm sorry sir, but is my slave bothering you?" An older boy came towards them.

"Ah, prince George, I gather." James said.

"What right have you to enslave this unfortunate wretch?" Wendy added.

George smiled, "He's my youngest brother."

"I see." James turned to Michael, "Sorry lad, but that reason alone is more than enough for one to be commanded a slave."

"That's all right." Michael replied as he pet Porthos.

"What's taking you so long, George?" Another boy came running.

"It seems Michael has caused some trouble." George explained.

"This is my brother, Jack, next in line to the throne." George explained.

"I'm sorry, are my boys bothering you?" A beautiful blonde-haired lady approached.

"We're not disturbing him, mum." Michael announced, holding onto her long, white dress.

"And you must be the beloved queen of the kingdom, I believe." James started, "JM Barrie, a pleasure to meet you. And this is my daughter, Wendy."

"_The _JM Barrie? It's a pleasure to meet you. I'm Sylvia Llewelyn Davies."

"Do you know him, mother?" George asked.

"Yes George, quite a lot of people know Mr. Barrie. He's a famous playwright." Sylvia explained.

"And what do you write, Mr. Barrie?" Jack asked.

"Well, currently, I make a living out of entertaining princes and their courts. Do you have any other siblings, prince George?" James asked.

"Yes. Peter. But he doesn't like to have fun as much." The eldest Davies replied.

"Well then, if you can get him to come and join us then I would be more than happy to perform for you with the help of my trained bear, Porthos." James said.

"In exchange for the freedom of this slave, of course." Wendy added as she pointed to Michael.

"All right then." George agreed.

And so, they all sat on the mat that Wendy laid on the grass to watch the performance. It took quite some time for Porthos to warm up to the idea of becoming a bear, but after some encouragement from Wendy and the boys, he got up and danced with James.

"This is stupid, it's just a dog." Peter remarked silently.

"Just a dog?" Wendy asked since she was sitting beside Peter.

"How can he say that it's a bear when it's clearly just a dog?" Peter continued.

Porthos stumbled but managed to continue with the dance.

"Well Peter, I you think long enough and hard enough that it is a bear, then you'll see a bear dancing right there with my father. But if you continue on insisting that it's just a dog then you'll never see the amazing bear that is Porthos." Wendy said.

Peter stared at her.

"And let me tell you, it's quite fascinating to see a bear dancing." She looked back at him and smiled.

The dance ended with James and Porthos both falling to the ground followed by a round of applause from the boys, Sylvia and Wendy.

"We're here everyday and the bear is always more than happy to perform." James noted as he stood.

"Of course, thank you for the wonderful performance, Mr. Barrie. Perhaps we shall see you tomorrow." Sylvia replied as she stood up and gathered her things.

"Yes, of course." James replied as Wendy approached him.

"Wasn't this a lovely morning, father?" Wendy asked as she looked at the Davies family walking away.

"Yes, yes it was." James agreed.

It was a particularly good morning for James because you see, he found an inspiring distraction.


	3. Creature of Terror

_Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters in this fic. The only character that I can own up to is Wendy whose name I borrowed from JM Barrie._

_A/N: Here's chapter two! Took some time for me to make since I wasn't eeling up to it but here it is anyway!_

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**Chapter Two: Creature of Terror**

"Why didn't you tell me, Charles? You knew it wasn't any good."

"Ah, why didn't you tell _me _James? _You _knew it was no good."

Without another moment's pause, Charles and James stood idly on the steps leading to the theater discussing last night's agreeable disaster. As they stood there, their voices humming with insecurity, Wendy took to exploring the theater.

It was old and run-down. If it weren't for the cleaning staff and the weekly plays, the theater would've seemed haunted, abandoned and forgotten. The chairs were made of red velvet and the curtains of the same material and color. The stairs that were made of wood would creak in some places while the ceiling, on the other hand, looked distraught from sheltering years worth of rain.

Slowly, Wendy climbed the steps that led to the stage. This particular platform was not as elaborate as one might like. In her dreams, Wendy had seen better. But they were dreams, of course. Only dreams. Nothing more.

And as unexpected as it might seem, Wendy no longer saw an old theater. Instead, she saw a beautiful lagoon with flying fish and mysterious mermaids. She saw a periwinkle sky dotted with little bright gems and a silver crescent moon smiling down on her. The lagoon was a beautiful shade of cotton blue with clear waters. The lagoon had smooth, white pebbles as its bed and a few plants here and there. The mermaids were gathered near large, glimmering rocks. They were dark, mysterious creatures with long hair and sharp fangs.

As Wendy approached them, they fled, every one of them jumping into the water to escape the sight of this strange intruder. They all fled…except one. She sat there, looking intently at Wendy as though she was a piece of meat. Her cold, silver eyes pierced through Wendy's warm, brown ones and it seemed as though she was luring Wendy to the lagoon. She had long, yellow hair that covered her torso and stretched on to her fins. Her scales were of a bright green color while her fins were sparkling orange. But it was her eyes…her piercing silver eyes that scared Wendy the most. It was impossible to break eye contact and slowly, it seemed like nothing else existed at that point in time. Nothing else existed until…

"Wendy!"

And it vanished. The lagoon, the periwinkle sky and the mermaid. They were gone. In turn, she found herself looking at the run-down theater once more. She looked around and realized that her father was carrying her in his arms.

"Where'd you run off to, darling? You almost fell off the stage." James smiled as he placed her on the floor.

"To Neverland, I presume." Wendy replied as she rubbed her eyes.

"Really now? And what may I ask did you find there this time?" James asked.

It took some time for his daughter to reply, "A creature of terror, father. A creature of terror."

With a puzzled look, James decided that this was not the right time to confront Wendy about what she had seen. Neverland was not filled with dark, enticing beings or creatures of terror for that matter. It was James' sanctuary. Neverland always had clear, blue skies and impeccable surroundings. So it was a mystery even to him as to why his daughter had seen a creature of sheer horror in such a delightful place. It was not possible.

After promising Charles that he would have a play as soon as possible, James and his daughter left the theater and headed home. It was almost nightfall when they reached the small, black gate that led to their humble abode. As James pushed the gate open, he looked back at Wendy and eyed her conspicuously. Wendy's brows met with pure uncertainty.

"Is something wrong, father?"

"You'd best be on a hurry when I open the door. You wouldn't want your mother to catch you wearing those clothes. It might lead to another long lecture about growing up and turning into a lady and we certainly wouldn't want that now, would we?" James explained.

Wendy smiled and nodded. That was the last thing she wanted right now.

Slowly, James opened the mahogany-brown door as Wendy darted past him, running quickly up the stairs. She would've been safe…if she remembered to lock her bedroom door. Unfortunately, her mother invited herself inside and took to rearranging the figurines on the bedside table.

"Finally home? Where've you been the entire day?" Mary asked as she folded a white cotton shirt and placed it on the foot of the bed.

"Mother, I—"

"She went to the park with me, after which we headed to the theater to settle a few things with Charles. Is there a problem, Mary?" James interrupted.

Mary smiled disdainfully, "Yes there is, James. If you hadn't noticed then shall I fill you in? Your charming daughter has been walking the streets the entire day wearing men's clothing." She looked at Wendy who, in turn, opened her cabinet to take out her black evening dress.

"I'm sorry mother. I'll change now." Wendy replied.

"And why exactly is that a problem? She dresses appropriately if the occasion calls for it. If she went running around wearing a dress then it would get brutally ruined in the dirt. So I don't think it's a problem unless you disagree, saying that even when playing a woman must be dressed to the nines." James defended his daughter.

"That's where the problem lies, James. She is _sixteen _years of age. She has to stop running around like a ten year old and start being a lady. How can she expect suitors if she keeps playing around in men's clothing all day? Now that would be an even bigger problem. What's worse than that is if people start talking about it." Mary flared and immediately, she looked at Wendy.

James stood there and spoke softly, "Have you ever thought of the possibility that she simply doesn't want to grow up yet?"

Mary looked back at her husband, "I have, but I'm not considering it." She looked at Wendy with anger in her eyes, "Tomorrow you shall stay home and I will start teaching you about manners and etiquette."

"Mary—"

"Yes mother." Wendy looked at her father with a retreating smile.

After a quiet dinner, Wendy got ready for bed. She put her nightclothes on, got into bed and pulled the covers over her head. Just as she was about to doze off, the door creaked open and she heard her father whistling a familiar tune.

Wendy smiled, "You used to whistle that tune all the time when I was young to put me to sleep."

"And did it help?" James asked as he sat on the bed next to Wendy.

"It helped…but I didn't fall asleep. I just pretended." Wendy giggled.

"Is that so?"

Wendy looked at her father, "Thank you for standing up for me earlier today."

"I can stay here tomorrow if you like."

Wendy shook her head and sat up in bed.

There was a comforting silence that fell over them or some time before James struck up a conversation.

"Wendy, about your trip to Neverland in the theater, what did you see there? A creature of terror, you said. But…what did this creature look like?" James inquired.

Wendy looked away for a moment, "She was a mermaid, father. But she didn't look like the ones you told me about when I was younger. All the mermaids weren't how I pictured them. They were dark and they had fangs. But there was one…who, as strange as it seemed, looked at me as though she had planned something evil for me." While she was explaining, a look of fear came over Wendy's face.

"A mermaid?" James asked. Fishing in his thoughts, he remembered the mermaids from the Neverland he knew. They were playful creatures that sat around rock formations the entire day singing songs of hope and love. They weren't dark in any way.

"Yes father. She had long, yellow hair that traveled all the way to her sparkling orange fins. And she had these cold, silver eyes that pierced through me. I think she was luring me into the water because I couldn't break eye contact with her." Wendy stated.

"Father, I thought Neverland was a beautiful place with friendly creatures. How come I saw mermaids with fangs and met one who almost tried to drown me?" Wendy asked, clearly confused.

James pondered for a moment before saying, "It is, darling."

Wendy slid down and placed her head on her pillow and drifted off into sleep, "Does that mean anything, father?" The words came out slowly and softly.

"I don't know, Wendy. I don't know." James planted a kiss on his daughter's forehead before leaving the room.

James woke up the next day quite later than he normally would. It was quarter past eleven when he ran down the stairs and entered the dining room for his breakfast.

"Good morning, Mr. Barrie." Their housekeeper said as she placed a plate of toast and jam on

the table.

"Good morning Emma," came his reply as he rubbed the last traces of sleep away from his eyes, "Is Wendy and Mary in the parlor?"

Emma looked up and just for a moment, she had a look of pity on her face, "Yes, sir."

After finishing his toast, James got up and walked to the parlor to see how Wendy was handling the 'lady lectures' from Mary.

Wendy was wearing a flattering blue dress as she sat properly on one of the chairs, sipping her tea in the most awkward position James has ever seen her in. She wasn't comfortable with this at all, he could see that. She had a look of pain in her eyes and she seemed as though she was trying to hide it. Parallel to her was her mother, Mary. She was wearing a tight, white dress as she instructed Wendy.

James smiled, "Good morning, ladies."

The two women looked at him.

Wendy seemed to brighten at the sight of her father. Her long, wavy brown hair cascaded elegantly down her back while her brown eyes concealed a look of pain.

Mary, on the other hand, looked at James intensely with her dull, gray eyes. Her long, straight blonde hair was tied into a tight bun pulled behind her head.

And at that moment, it was all clear to James.

Sitting right before him holding his daughter hostage was the creature of terror Wendy was talking about.

It was the mermaid.


End file.
